


Nostalgia, Bright for Him

by KnightDawn



Series: Passion & Pride [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: (blink and you'll miss the Pavellan LOL), Anal Sex, Fade Sex, M/M, Minor Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus, Oral Sex, Sex Happens in the Fade, Shapeshifting, Smut, Solas gets frisky with a Passion Spirit, Solas/Lavellan is one-sided on Solas's part, but Passion takes on Lavellan's form, smut with feelings, so there's that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23163091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightDawn/pseuds/KnightDawn
Summary: Solas seeks out company in the Fade, and meets a spirit of Passion.
Relationships: Fade Spirit(s)/Solas (Dragon Age), Fen'Harel | Solas/Male Lavellan, Male Lavellan/Solas
Series: Passion & Pride [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1669171
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36





	Nostalgia, Bright for Him

**Author's Note:**

> You can hover over Elvhen phrases for the translations, or view the full list of translations in the endnotes.  
> (Hopefully it's possible to infer the meanings as well, though. I tried to make them clear enough with context clues.)

_“You make friends with spirits in the Fade. So… um, are there any that are more than just friends? If you know what I mean.”_

_“Nothing about the Fade or spirits is simple, especially not that.”_

Despite having diverted attention to other, more pressing concerns earlier in the day, when night fell and their little entourage set up camp Solas found his thoughts darting back to Blackwall’s question as he settled down inside his tent. Or, rather, to all the memories that question had conjured up despite his attempts to keep them at bay.

They were soft, warm, inviting… It would be easy for Solas to lie back and sink into them, as though he was entering a warm bath. Usually, though, he avoided such indulgence. There were more important things to do, better uses for his time than _physical gratification._

But the more he tried to redirect his thoughts this evening, the stronger the memories felt. They lingered, pulsing and vibrating. They sent shivers of lightning down his spine, wrapped around him, pulled him in, enticed him —

It was immensely frustrating, to have gotten so _aroused_ from such fleeting little glimmers of his past dreams. _Damn._

The feeling was only made worse by the awareness that if he _did_ indulge himself he would have to make sure everything was sufficiently muffled or face the consequences of his folly in the morning.

The camp was not large, and even now he could still hear everything his companions were up to — and the noises currently coming from the Inquisitor’s tent were _definitely_ not helping Solas with his predicament, but at least they were _trying_ to be quiet.

Solas sighed as he rolled onto his back and silently drew some glyphs in the air — setting a few wards and safeguards for protection and silence. It was best to err on the side of caution, after all. Then, he settled into his covers and shut his eyes.

Moments later, he was in the Fade — surrounded by familiar, fathomless fields of endless energy and primal powers. Few people alive understood it’s complexities the way Solas did. The Chantry and the Circles of Magi had played a large role in sustaining that ignorance by teaching in absolute terms, but it was foolish to do so. The Fade was fluid and amorphous, always shifting and reshaping itself as it was touched by countless minds of beings both mortal and ageless.

There was nothing _absolute_ about it.

Solas’s current state was drawing out energies that he had not summoned in… quite some time. Long ago, it had been much easier to seek out such companionship — but spirits were cautious now, fearful of being twisted and corrupted by mortals who did not understand them.

Curious ones still existed, though, and Solas did not have to wait too long for one to answer.

Effervescent, scintillating wisps soon swirled in the air around him, and he shivered when he felt them reach out toward him. He smiled as he met the spirit halfway, embraced it with his entire being — mind, body, and soul.

To his amusement, the spirit seemed surprised.

It was used to people pulling away from it, fearing that they had drawn a _demon_ to them with their feelings of lust and desire, believing they had done something _wrong._ Solas knew better, though. Passion spirits were pure beings, born from positive feelings — feelings that every mortal felt at some point in their life.

The jolt of electricity felt when hands brushed skin for the first time, the feeling of lips pressing against other lips before moving impatiently down toward the jaw and neck, the clench of a hand around the hilt of a sword as a soldier thought about the person they _loved._

There was no life without Passion. It flickered up in every heart in a thousand different ways. Most recently, Solas had seen it flickering in the eyes of Inquisitor Lavellan — who was _infuriatingly_ passionate, especially when defending his ideals and the beliefs of his people.

“I know what you are,” Solas told it. “I am not afraid.”

The spirit flickered a bit in appreciation, tendrils of energy slowly wrapping around Solas’s body as a figure began to take form in his arms. It’s shape was still ambiguous, though, because it was still trying to figure out what Solas wanted.

The main problem with that? Even he was not completely sure. It had been so long since he’d lain with another — mortal or spirit — that he didn’t know what would please him most.

 _Anything,_ he thought. _Everything._

The spirit chuckled softly and brushed a _hand_ against the side of his face. Solas felt sudden pressure flush against his body, sending more jolts of desire through him, and that was soon followed by the feeling of lips against his, and then nothing else mattered but this joining.

 _So impatient._

He felt the words more than he heard them, just as he felt fingers tease his waist and slip beneath his clothes. Everywhere the spirit directly contacted him, he could _feel_ a deep, reverberating hum — similar to the sound made by lyrium. It was a pleasant sensation, especially when it caressed more _sensitive_ areas.

Fingers brushed up against his chest, beneath the soft wool of his shirt. They tweaked at one of his nipples, teasing, even as the spirit’s mouth moved to kiss and suck at his throat — but it was the scrape of _teeth_ there that sent a flash of heat right through his entire body, especially when the teeth were followed by a warm, soft tongue.

“Perhaps you should have worn fewer clothes,” the spirit groaned, pressing Solas up against a wall.

The voice was deep and needy, and… far, far too familiar. His eyes flew open, and Solas found himself staring at a likeness of _Ash Lavellan._ His clear, piercingly blue eyes were tinged slightly green from the Fade energies, but Solas found his own gaze drawn to where his lips had parted into a confident grin — damn bastard, he knew what he was doing.

“Half the fun is in the chase,” Solas mused, his own fingers gripping the lapel of the Inquisitor’s coat. A little snowflake landed on the back of his hand, and Solas realized they were just outside where his quarters had been in the village of Haven. _Interesting._

He didn’t have much time to ponder the meaning of any of this, however, before Ash was kissing him again and pushing them through the door into the small, sparsely decorated chamber Solas had never quite managed to make his own.

Ash was clearly far more impatient than he was, moving so swiftly through the room he nicked the dangling pots with his shoulder and caused them to clang against each other. Solas laughed as he was pushed rather unceremoniously back towards his bed. 

“No need to be so hasty,” Solas said, taking a seat on the edge of his cot while Ash removed his coat. “We have all night — though, I must admit this is... unexpected.”

Ash grinned as he folded the coat in half and hung it over the back of a chair, as Solas had seen him do many times before. Then he moved closer and reached out for Solas, once again cupping the side of his face with his hand. 

“Unexpected, perhaps… but not _unwanted._ ”

Solas felt another spark of heat in his belly as Ash chuckled and brushed his thumb just below his ear. It was true — he couldn’t deny how much he _wanted_ this. Flickers of fantasies he’d been avoiding rose to the surface, now… and he allowed them to fill his mind.

The spirit inhaled sharply, then let out a soft moan. That noise was exactly the sort of thing Solas wanted to hear, and another surge of lust washed through him. He watched Ash’s smug grin falter as he swallowed nervously, drawing attention to his throat — 

Solas grabbed him, tugged him close so he could kiss him there. He felt another moan escape the spirit, the vibrations warm against his lips. Oh, how he longed to watch him falter like this, where no one else could see. The Herald of Andraste, caving and submitting to _his_ whims…?

It would make for a nice change of pace, certainly.

“Yes,” Ash gasped, his hands grabbing Solas’s shoulders. “ _Garas, aman na'mis, Solas…!_ ” 

Solas bit at the skin just over the apple of his throat, making Ash cry out and press against him — _hard._ Oh, fuck. Solas was so hard, it was _aching._ He ran his tongue over his lips as he pulled away, slightly breathless.

Ash’s freckled face was flushed lightly, too, and at some point his dark red locks had become tousled — they hung over his forehead, slightly covering the similarly-colored vallaslin that decorated his face with Ghilan’nain’s design. 

Solas brushed them aside, then brought his hand down to cup his chin, slowly tracing the tattooed lines below Ash’s mouth with his thumb. Ash closed his eyes and shivered. “I want you on your knees,” Solas breathed. “I want you... to use that glib tongue of yours to _please_ me.”

“That is the _goal_ here,” Ash mused. Then his hands were at the fastenings of Solas’s pants, loosening the ties with a deftness that only came with _practice._ His smug smirk returned as he reached inside and wrapped his fingers around Solas. “I aim to _please._ ”

He drew Solas’s cock out with a firm tug, his thumb softly brushing the underside, pressing against the area just below the head. Solas inhaled, watching closely as Ash leaned in and pressed a few soft, warm kisses to the side of the shaft. His fingers squeezed the base gently, and Solas arched into his hand with a groan.

“Ah...!”

Ash continued like that for a while, but his kisses slowly grew more fervent and needy. His mouth opened occasionally so he could suck and lick the sensitive skin, leaving it wet and gleaming in the lamplight. It felt like a small eternity had passed before Ash sat back slightly and tucked some of his hair behind his ear, his eyes glancing up to meet Solas’s gaze.

Then he smirked and leaned in again, his lips parting as he wrapped them around the head of Solas’s cock and flicked it with the tip of his tongue.

Once again, Solas was filled with the pleasant and familiar hum of Fade energies crackling around him — but all his mind could focus on was the slick, wet heat of the Inquisitor’s mouth. He felt Ash’s tongue swirl across his smooth tip a few times before he took in more, a muffled moan reaching Solas’s ears.

Ash only went half-way down the shaft before rising again, humming softly. _Such a tease._ Solas allowed him to do that a few more times before he grew impatient and grabbed him by the hair, pushing him down further.

“You can take it,” Solas growled.

Ash made a soft noise of protest, but he took all of Solas in with _ease,_ his throat loosening to accept what was being given to him. Solas groaned as he watched Ash squirm and swallow, his hands blindly seeking out something to grasp.

His face was completely flushed now, his pupils so wide his irises were nearly invisible. Deep within those dark depths, though, there were occasional flickers of pale green light.

_Isalan hima sa i’na. _

Solas wasn’t sure who that thought belonged to, but the feeling was certainly mutual. His grip did not falter as he began moving his hips with reckless fervor. He did not need to worry about the spirit _choking_ on him, after all.

He knew he would not last much longer, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was the look of pure bliss on the Inquisitor’s face as he gave in and let Solas take what he wanted.

“ _Ashiran…_ ” Solas groaned, shuddering as he released several thick spurts into Ash’s throat. Ash moaned around him and drank deeply, his throat convulsing as he swallowed everything he could. His grip loosened, then, and Ash backed off — not spilling a single drop. He even gave a few soft licks to Solas’s cock to make sure he’d gotten all of it, which made Solas shiver again.

When that was done, the spirit leaned in and rested his head against Solas’s thigh. The way the air hummed and shifted, Solas knew the spirit was not yet sated — but he was giving Solas a small reprieve, at least, and he was grateful for that.

“How long has it been since you had company?” Solas asked, quietly.

“Too long,” the spirit said. “I wouldn’t know. The last person, though… she was a Keeper.”

Solas was given a flash of memory: an elven woman he had never met. Her hair was grey, and her face was lined with age, but the lines were mostly from smiles and laughter. She had lived a very happy life, and the memory glowed with love and adoration.

“She’s beautiful,” Solas mused, and he felt a surge of gratitude from the spirit.

“She _never_ feared me.” The spirit said, grinning as he stood up. He was still flushed and flickering with energy, but his smile he wore could only be described as _fond._ “Our time together was incredible.”

Solas nodded once, understanding. 

Fear was the emotion that most frequently corrupted Passion — most Desire demons were summoned by people who feared their passions and fantasies were forbidden, illicit things. Their fears twisted positive feelings into shadows of what they should have been.

Even this encounter was benign. There was nothing wrong with allowing the spirit to take Ash’s form, because it was merely that: a form. A form Solas found _attractive,_ apparently — which was a realization he’d have to mull over and unpack more thoroughly later, when he wasn’t in the middle of such a nice dream.

Passion took a seat on the bed beside Solas, still wearing a small smirk. “So, should we continue like this, or…”

The spirit shifted subtly, taking on a different form — one with longer hair and soft curves Solas could only imagine would feel nice under his hands. But rather than please him, the form made him feel sad. It looked too similar to _her,_ he realized. 

“No, I… we can continue as we were. It’s fine. I… want _him._ ”

The spirit shifted back into Ash’s form, his eyes apologetic. “Alright, then. Though, ah… we could still do this better with fewer clothes.”

Solas chuckled a bit at that statement. The spirit was still dressed, wearing the delicately embroidered tunic Ash had worn to the conclave. A gift from his clan, no doubt. The patterns were commonly used among the Dalish — but the ones on his tunic were expertly stitched, with great care and passion for detail.

“I can help with that,” Solas said, leaning in to unbutton the shirt with a slight huff. There were far too many buttons. The spirit, however, shivered and panted more each time a button came undone — testing Solas’s _patience._

When the shirt finally hung open, Solas leaned in closer and let his hands glide up over the spirit’s chest. Just the sight of Ash like this — half-naked, panting, in _his_ bed — was enough to spark his interest, but it would take a bit of effort to stoke it back into a roaring fire.

“I like a challenge,” Passion said, flashing another cocky smirk at Solas. 

Evidently, that attitude was all it took to fan the flames. Solas let out a breath, then kissed the spirit. His lips were soft, inviting, and Solas couldn’t help but take that offer. He let his tongue dart out for a taste and discovered that Passion was sweet as honey, with a hint of salt, and… nostalgic. Like coming home, after a long journey.

He let his hands wander over Passion’s skin, slowly descending until he could press his palm against the front of the spirit’s pants — gentle, but _firm._ Solas chuckled as Passion groaned and he felt a shift in the air, a humming gust of energy.

“Who’s impatient now…?” Solas asked, grinning as he tugged on the spirit’s pants and found that they came off with very little resistance. Oh, Passion was _definitely_ eager. 

Solas felt his cheeks heat up as he examined what had been bared to him — the spirit was fully erect and gleaming slightly, little wisps of bubbling energy still lurking just below his skin. Before going further, though, Solas sat back and removed the rest of his own clothes, discarding them by simply tossing them aside.

The spirit was smirking again, one eyebrow raised. “Why hide a figure like that under such… frumpy clothes?”

Solas snorted. “My clothes are not _frumpy._ They’re… comfortable.”

“Comfortable, cozy, camouflaging…” the spirit mused, his voice a sing-song tease, and Solas found himself momentarily reminded of Cole. “You don’t need to hide _anything_ from me.”

There was another slight shift in the air, one that made Solas shudder with anticipation. It was true: there were no secrets here, which meant he was free to do _anything_ he wanted. And in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to watch Passion bow and submit to his will as he was claimed completely.

An image filled his mind: Passion bent over, panting and slick with sweat as Solas fucked him with reckless abandon, biting and sucking, fingers digging into his hips… Solas groaned as Passion gasped and lay back, his head resting on the pillows beneath him. His breath was coming as quick as that of caught prey, and his cock jerked like a rabbit’s foot.

_Lasa ar’an alas’nira aron fen’en. _

Solas pinned him down, brought his lips to his throat once again. Passion whined and tried to arch up against him, but Solas pressed him down into the mattress as he took control — biting and sucking on his collarbone, leaving little marks there.

The spirit was still struggling against him a little, trying to regain some control, but it was futile. Solas was stronger. He smirked against the other’s skin and licked over one of the love bites even as he pressed his hips down. 

Their cocks slid against each other, and Solas took a moment to reach down and grasp and stroke them both together. Passion’s tip was weeping slightly, now, and the fluid felt all warm and tingly — charged with magic, just like the rest of him. 

It made Solas shiver and want even _more._

As he licked, bit, and slid himself against Passion, Solas began to feel as though he was also vibrating from within, filled with pulsing, humming electricity. His cock was unbearably hot and hard, flushed red at the tip. It contrasted the somewhat darker, tan color that Passion’s skin was everywhere — dark and ruddy where blood had rushed forward and collected, freckled where it had been kissed by the sun.

_Take me, sate me, make me yours._

Solas groaned, his voice deep and gravely. He grabbed one of Passion’s legs and hoisted it up, smirking as the spirit tucked it around his waist and drew him in. There was no need for any other preparations — Solas simply had to line himself up and _sink in._

His entrance was tight and slightly difficult to breach, but once the head of Solas’s cock was through there was only slight resistance. As he hilted himself, Passion gasped and dug his fingers into Solas’s back. He felt completely embraced by the slick, crackling heat, fully joined with Passion’s swirling, pulsing energy.

Solas began to move. His thrusts were deep and deliberate, each press ending with Passion’s shaft rubbing up against his belly. He felt the spirit’s heel dig into the small of his back each time, as if encouraging him to stay there, press in deeper still — but that couldn’t even be done in the Fade without crossing certain _boundaries._

Passion’s grip slackened a little, and he whined, but there was a flicker of understanding. Solas thrust into him a few more times like this, but it was still proving to be inadequate to sate their needs. They both wanted the same thing: to experience the vision they had shared earlier.

The spirit reluctantly unhooked his leg from around Solas so he could turn and shift into the other position — allowing the elf to penetrate him from behind. Solas gave him time to settle in and get slightly comfortable before he pressed forward again, one arm wrapping around the spirit’s waist to hold him close.

His movements were faster, now, but still calculated and profound. He fell into a rhythmic motion that allowed him to pull out nearly all the way each time, but still sheathe himself fully whenever he arched his hips forward. Passion’s fingers gripped the sheets hard enough to tear into them.

Each time he was filled, he groaned. The pressure in the air was building, as though a storm was brewing. Gusts of energy swirled around them, caressed Solas’s skin, urged him to keep going — farther, faster, with more _force._

“ _Pala em elvar’el! _”

Solas growled and shoved him into the mattress again, trying to fulfill that desire. The humming sensation had grown stronger, now — nearly _unbearable._ It rang deep and loud in Solas’s ears. He dug his fingers into the spirit’s hip hard enough to bruise and assailed him with reckless, relentless ardor. He shuddered and buried his face in the crook of Passion’s neck as he drew near to the edge, then bit down hard as he fell over it and spilled his essence deep inside the other’s body. 

The equilibrium of the entire _world_ shifted when Passion also trembled and cried out, as though gravity itself had stopped working — or perhaps as though they had just been spinning rapidly, but were now suddenly standing still. Everything felt off-kilter for a several moments, but the sensation gradually faded as they both began to relax and settle down.

Solas pulled out and turned to rest beside Passion on the bed, which was now king-sized and surrounded by curtains.

His brow furrowed a little as he studied the room around them. They were no longer in the chambers Solas had claimed while staying in Haven. _These_ quarters were much more magnificent, with silk sheets and intricate stained glass windows. The light filtered through them in complex patterns that danced across the painted walls.

It was still familiar, despite having not been _his_ home in… a very long time.

Passion let out a soft, content sigh and leaned in, pressing his forehead against Solas’s shoulder. He felt a surge of fulfillment and gratitude from the spirit — they had both been fully sated this time, and the spirit was content.

Solas buried his face in Passion’s hair, chuckling when he realized it had also shifted in appearance at some point — most likely at the same time their surroundings had. The spirit now had pitch black hair. When he pulled back slightly, Solas could also see that Passion’s face bore no marks or lines, and when the spirit’s eyes finally fluttered open, they were the bright, crisp green of the Fade.

Passion grinned, and Solas smiled in turn as his chest filled with warmth. Solas tugged the spirit in for a soft, pleasant kiss — one Passion returned with fervor.

 _We should do this again sometime,_ the spirit hummed. _You know how to find me._

“I do,” Solas sighed, reaching out to cup the spirit’s smooth cheek. Passion’s eyes fluttered closed again as the spirit leaned into Solas’s palm. 

“ _Sule tael tasalal._ ”

Solas smiled at the _promise_ in those words.

Then there was a flash of white, warm light as he woke up — one arm stretched out towards the emptiness beside him.

The air was chilly enough to leave goosebumps on his skin, and he groaned quietly when he realized he was a sweaty, sticky mess. It took him several minutes to clean himself up and get ready for the day, especially since doing so meant he’d have to face the _real_ Inquisitor Lavellan.

By the time he emerged from his tent, the morning was already well underway. Ash was eating breakfast and drinking a cup of hot coffee and Dorian sat nearby, studying a book he had cracked open over one knee. The mage did glance up to observe Solas momentarily, arching his eyebrows quizzically, but he had the sense to remain quiet.

It was Blackwall who finally spoke up — a smug tone in his voice. “You’re late to rise this morning, Solas. Unlike you.”

“I’m fine,” Solas sighed, not meeting anyone’s eyes. His ears felt like they were _burning._ “No need to worry about me.”

“Mmhm,” Blackwall said, arms crossed. All Solas could hear, though, was _‘I knew it.’_

**Author's Note:**

> Elvhen phrases brought to you by [Project Elvhen.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3553883/chapters/7825850)
> 
> Translations, in order:  
> Garas, aman na'mis, Solas.…! = Let me sheathe your blade, Solas...!  
> Isalan hima sa i’na. = I want to become one with you.  
> Lasa ar’an alas’nira aron fen’en. = Let us dance as the wolves do.  
> Pala em elvar’el! = Fuck me harder!  
> Sule tael tasalal. = Until we meet again. 
> 
> \-------
> 
> Obviously, the title is a reference to and inversion of "All New, Faded for Her." The Wisdom spirit from that quest is also the "her" Solas thinks of during the brief conversation that happens in the middle of this fic. I don't think Solas had a sexual relationship with Wisdom, but I'm certain he loved her.
> 
> Solas's musings about the difference between Passion spirits and Desire demons are pure speculation, but I based it on stuff that has been said and shown in canon sources. Solas has no shame about his feelings, so he's able to tread a fine line here. He's only been avoiding his attraction because it's... inconvenient. (But now he has Passion, so it's all good. Right?)
> 
> Also, yes, I did leave the door open for future Solas/Passion stuff... ;D
> 
> Finally, this fic was inspired by a prompt challenge in the Beyond the Veil discord server: smut featuring Solas/Elvhen Glory/Vibrating Egg (though this fic took a more metaphorical approach to the latter two, haha.)
> 
> Thanks for reading~  
> ｡ﾟ+.(･∀･)ﾟ+.ﾟ


End file.
